


Marry Me

by checkerboardom



Series: Flash Gift-Fics [5]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Drunk Cisco Ramon, Drunk Hartley Rathaway, Hartley Joins Team Flash, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 11:36:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8666053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/checkerboardom/pseuds/checkerboardom
Summary: Cisco's drunk, Hartley threatens to throw him into a dumpster, and someone proposes.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Cisco Ramon/Hartley Rathaway + “Marry Me?”

Like all good proposals, it’s good to set the stage. Here and now, the stage is a really really comfortable couch in Hartley’s apartment. It certainly hadn’t started out as comfortable, but then that was four shots and three-fourths a bottle of Malibu ago, so Cisco isn’t gonna question it. Anyway, Hartley has terrible taste in furniture and it’s not a surprise because Hartley is probably the prickliest host ever and really, he shouldn’t be because he’s now an official member of Team Flash.

That’s the reason he’s on the couch, mind you. Because Hartley “Resting Bitch Face” Rathaway had managed to make the team and that had called for a celebration. Obviously.

“Cisco, stop grinning at me or I will– I will punch you.” Hartley says far too loudly from where he’s smooshed into his side and they might both be a little drunk. Maybe.

“Barry would kick you ass.” Cisco replies and looks around for their gangly speedster. “Where is Barry anyway?”

“He took Caitlin home after she started shrieking like a banshee.” Hartley shudders and he looks a little green at the memory. “That is the last time that I ever want to hear a live rendition of Miley Cyrus.”

“La da doo da dee .” Cisco sings softly and the next thing he knows there’s a pillow being pressed into his face, little plastic sparkle decorations scraping uncomfortably against his cheek and he’s laughing way harder than he should be with his limited amount of oxygen. “And we cant stop. And we won’t stop!” He howls from behind his cotton prison and Hartley groans.

“Why didn’t Barry take you too?” He demands as Cisco pushes the pillow out of his face.

“If I remember correctly, you said something along the lines of ‘remove Cisquito from my presence and you’ll suffer’ when he tried to pull me up.” Cisco informs him and Hartley tilts his head like he’s trying to remember too.

“No I didn’t.” He decides and Cisco shrugs.

“You also said that I had amazing hair and that you’d like to smother yourself in my–”

Hartley presses the pillow back over his face with a glare. “No. I didn’t.” He insists. “I’d never compliment that mess you call hair.”

“Uh-huh,” Cisco hums. “What about the– Oh.”

Oooooh.

“Oh, what?” Hartley leans away from him. “Why are you grinning at me again?”

“You liiii-iiiike me.” Cisco crows and Hartley rolls his eyes. “You wanna love me. You wanna sex me. You wanna marry me.”

Hartley makes a disgusted sound low in his throat. “I’m going to throw you into the dumpster downstairs if you don’t shut up.”

“Before or after we get married?”

“We’re not getting married. Now give me the Malibu; I’m not inebriated enough to deal with drunk you.”

“No.” Cisco holds the bottle out of reach and really, its the best damn thing to be taller than someone for once. “Not until one of us proposes.”

“Fine. Cisco, will you marry me?” Hartley asks, voice low and sincere as he turns to face him fully. Cisco lowers his arm in surprise and Hartley snatches the bottle out of his suddenly lax hold.

“You don’t mean that.” Cisco says and Hartley pauses mid-swig because Cisco shouldn’t sound that torn up about it. It’s not like they like each other enough to actually get married, even if Cisco does have amazing looking thighs and–

Jesus. “Don’t tell me what I do and do not mean, Cisquito.”

“Fine. Ask me again in the morning.” Cisco says and Hartley takes a good long drink of Malibu and shakes away the initial reflex to cringe at the mix of fake coconut and liquor.

“I will.” He says and it’s a challenge now more than anything. If Cisco wants to pout about Hartley not wanting to marry him, then he’ll show him just how much he does. “And I get to wear the dress, you oily haired heathen.”

…

“Good morning!”

“Oh god no.”

“What? Is Hartley Rathaway not a morning person?” Cisco teases and Hartley presses his face further into the couch.

“No. I meant 'Oh god no’ as in you probably still want me to propose to you.” He groans and Cisco huffs out a laugh, the vibrations of it traveling through his body in a way that’s not unpleasant at all.

“Do you still wanna wear the dress?” Cisco asks softly and Hartley whips his head up so fast that his neck twinges.

“I’m gonna puke on you.” He tells Cisco and it’s barely over a whisper but no less viscous for it.

Cisco just laughs at him.


End file.
